Not One of Us
by MooseTV
Summary: Ezra cons Four Corners' citizens out of everything and wakes up to realize the consequences of his actions.


"One of Us" lyrics by Jack FeldmanTitle: Not One of Us 1/1  
Author: Birgit "Lee" Kohls  
Feedback: Serious comments appreciated. Send to lee_@firemail.de  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and there is no profit. Magificent Seven   
belong to Mirsch, CBS, MGM and Trilogy. "One of Us" lyrics were written by Jack   
Feldman and belong to Disney.  
Rating: PG13  
Warnings: Language, violence  
Spoilers: None  
Archive: Yes, please  
Notes: I'm not a native English speaker, so humour me.  
This fanfic was a result of trying to relax after too much learning and too many   
tests. It's not betaed.  
When I listened to the Lion King 2 soundtrack last weekend, the song "One of Us"   
created this musical scene in my mind, where Ezra was driven out of town by   
everyone, being pushed from one to the other until he finally ran for his dear   
life. Of course that meant all 'em guys singing their parts… g   
So, for the sake of my ears, I settled for the 'nightmare' version instead,   
where there's no singing involved.  
  
Not One of Us  
  
By Birgit "Lee" Kohls (May 2001)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Deception, his inner voice whispered.  
  
Four Corners was paying the price for trusting Ezra Standish. The fine tuned   
plan the gambler had worked on for almost a year now finally paid off. Or so he   
thought. He stored the wads of money in his boots and jacket, hastily packet his   
saddlebags, stuffed clothes and provisions into the leather bags. Mother would   
be proud, and he could now buy himself the finest establishment in St. Louis.  
  
Disgrace, his conscience screamed.  
  
"Going anywhere?"   
Chris Larabee's voice was cold as stone, sending a chill through the con man.   
Ezra spun around, a smile on his face, trying to dispel the gunslinger's   
tension. With any luck he'd be out of this dustbowl before anyone learned about   
his actions.   
"Mr. Larabee…" his voice trailed off when he saw the mistrust and disappointment   
in the older man's hazel eyes. Ezra swallowed nervously as he realized that   
Larabee knew and that there was no escape. "Aw hell!"   
Ezra bolted for the door, but Chris' fist hit him square in the face, leaving a   
laceration on the gambler's cheek.   
  
Evil as plain as the scar on his face, his sub-consciousness accused.  
  
Before Standish had a chance to recover, Larabee hit him again, this time   
knocking him out cold. Just when the darkness consumed Ezra, he could hear JD's   
sad question from the doorway.  
"Why, Ezra? I thought we were friends…"  
  
Deception,   
the hatred voice pierced through the shadows.  
An outrage!  
a woman sneered.  
Disgrace…  
Vin? Ezra wondered.   
For shame!  
Mrs. Travis damned him.  
He asked for trouble the moment he came,  
Nathan's disappointment was almost touchable, forcefully pushing him to   
wakefulness.   
When Ezra came around, he found himself in the middle of Four Corner's Main   
Street, on his knees, an highly irritated mob of townspeople building a circle   
around him which inner parameters were drawn by five of the six remaining   
lawmen.   
Chris stood next to Ezra, keeping the people that the gambler had conned out of   
their earnings and cheated out of their money at bay with his glare and a drawn   
weapon. For a moment, Standish wasn't sure if he should be glad or scared, until   
Larabee's command of "Silence" boomed over the crowd, followed by a gunshot. The   
effect was instant, the shouting was reduced to single outbursts.  
Deception,   
Ezra heard the voice of the Judge. How did Judge Travis get here?  
An outrage!  
Was that Mrs. Potter?  
He can't change his stripes,  
Josiah apologized to the crowd and it sent a shiver down the gambler's spine.  
Ezra could feel the dried blood itching on his cheek, interfering with his   
attempts to maintain a cool and uninterested façade. Inside, however, he was   
desperately rattling through his options, nullifying each with disturbing   
fatality. He knew his friends – no, his marks, he corrected himself quickly –   
too well to recognize the signs of determination in them.   
Larabee was deadly in his anger, the trust and friendship that he might have   
felt for the gambler being burned away by the depth of the betrayal. The   
putrefied glare that Chris shot him seared Ezra's psyche, effectively cutting   
down his defences. The deadly silence on the street gave the scene an almost   
unearthly feeling, nagging on the last strains of self control that the   
Southerner still possessed.  
"Standish…" When Chris finally spoke up, the con man began to realize that he   
would pay dearly for his con. "We all thought we could trust you…"  
Ezra winced, then gathered himself. "I'm sorry."  
Larabee seized him with a look that pierced straight through the Southerner's   
heart and he lowered his head in shame. What on Earth had he done? When did   
marks turn into friends? It was too late now, the Judge would lock him up for   
good this time.  
"You're not worth a trial, you little cheat," Travis sternly said. "You will   
leave this territory and never come back. If you don't comply, you will pay for   
your crimes with your life."  
On the Judge's words, Larabee trained his gun on Ezra, indicating him to move   
through the passage that the townspeople had formed.   
Disgrace,  
Ezra could see the message written crystal clear in Buck's eyes.   
For shame!  
JD muttered and turned away.  
You know these Outsider types,  
Mr. Conklin spat out.  
He asked for trouble the moment he came,  
Nettie Wells glared at him.  
See you later, agitator!  
Chris smiled menacingly.   
Ezra stared at the friends he had conned and his face barely covered the panic   
he felt. They were driving him out of Four Corners, had joined up with the mob.   
Faces full of anger, hate, betrayal, hurt. He staggered backwards, trying to   
escape the angry shouts and accusing glares that were thrown at him, fearing for   
his very life. Ezra stumbled some more steps towards the edge of town.  
Deception,  
Chris uttered.   
An outrage!  
Josiah's expression of pure regret left nothing to guessing.  
Just leave us alone!  
Vin's words hurt more than Ezra had ever thought possible.  
Disgrace   
Nathan shook his head in disgust over Standish's actions.   
For shame!  
Buck stated with vitriol.  
Traitor, go back with your own!  
Ezra wasn't sure what hurt more, the words or the tone of JD. The gambler had   
stooped lower than low in the youth's opinion. He suppressed and agonized   
scream, instead he accelerated his steps until he was running.  
He asked for trouble the moment he came,  
someone shouted.  
See you later, agitator!  
A stone hit Ezra square in the back. The crowds were getting violent.  
Born in grief  
Raised in hate   
Was the con he had pulled to get the city's money worth the price he ways   
paying? Emotions were running wild in Ezra now that he sprinted towards safety,   
away from the place he had almost considered his home.   
Helpless to defy his fate.  
The gambler looked back as the angered shouts behind him grew softer, they were   
no longer following him. Ezra took in the sight of Four Corners and its   
citizens, gathered on the main street at the edge of town, caught a final   
glimpse of the six lawmen that had been friends. Lined up like a protective   
barrier they shielded him from the revenge the mob had planned.   
Let him run  
Let him live  
But do not forget what we cannot forgive  
  
And he is not one of us  
He has never been one of us  
He is not part of us  
Not our kind  
  
Someone once lied to us  
Now we're not so blind  
For we knew he would do what he's done  
And we know that he'll never be one of us  
Larabee's voice carried clear and with a lethal threat over the growing distance   
between con man and town. His words let everything inside Standish freeze, would   
haunt him for the rest of his life.  
Running, he had to keep running. Running away from the shame, the guilt, his   
failing, the loss, running from the pain and emptiness inside, the faces of his   
friends, running from Chris' words…  
He ran miles after miles, not caring about his burning feet, the unbearable   
thirst, the physical and emotional exhaustion creeping into him, or the   
direction he took.   
The sun burned down merciless on the lone figure that had collapsed in the   
middle of the desert, vultures' screams announced impending death. But all Ezra   
heard were the words of the man who had given him a second chance once. A chance   
for achieving more in his life than money could ever buy.   
He is not one of us  
And with his final ragged breath, Ezra Standish knew that he had lost everything   
he ever truly cared about over a con that in the end was just a lie, after the   
marks had become friends.  
  
Deception,  
Disgrace,  
Deception,  
Disgrace,  
The words echoed through Ezra's dream and he muttered them over and over again   
as he tossed in his sleep until he let out a strangled scream. The gambler   
bolted upright, bathed in sweat and took a few calming breaths before he pried   
his eyes open. With a sigh, he identified the room as the one he occupied in   
Four Corners since he took up his duties as law keeper in the backwater   
dustbowl. Home. Friends.   
A smile tugged his lips and Standish silently thanked his creator that he had   
never given in to the demands of his mother to con this town out of all its   
meagre riches. Instead of fleeting monetary values, the gambler had achieved   
some true values, a feeling of belonging, and have a man like Chris Larabee say:   
"He's one of us."  
  
The End 


End file.
